


First Date

by Silent_So_Long



Series: otpprompts [49]
Category: Feeling B, Rammstein
Genre: Boys Kissing, First Dates, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5279969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and their first date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Date

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote the following story sometime over the summer, but for some reason, it's taken me a long time to get around to actually posting it. It was originally inspired by a prompt I saw on tumblr's otpprompts; since the time of writing, however, I ... um ... kinda deleted my tumblr account ... heh. I think (or rather hope) that it still is worth posting on here! 
> 
> This is the prompt, which I still think is very sweet: [Imagine person A walking person B home from their first date. It begins to rain and, overcome with how beautiful A is, B leans A up against a lamppost and gently kisses A.](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/114530381100/imagine-person-a-walking-person-b-home-from-their)
> 
> I intended this story to be set sometime during the ‘80s, when Feeling B was still a part of Paul and Flake’s lives, but before Christoph was a member of the band (from ‘90 to ‘93) and definitely before Rammstein was even figuring in the lives of Richard and Paul. The tavern, Henne, as mentioned in the beginning of this fic, would have been around in Berlin during the ‘80’s (it dates from 1908) and is situated at the very edge of Kreuzberg, five metres from the site of the Berlin Wall. 
> 
> Also this story is kinda mild for me, as they do little more than kiss ... XD

The street, after the warmth of Henne, was chill against the exposed skin of Richard’s face as he stepped outside the tavern; he shivered and pulled his coat a little closer around his body, whilst he waited for Paul to join him. The other man was not long in stepping through the doorway to stop at his side, smaller frame shivering slightly as the breezes picked up, sending bright rills of rain-scented air into the faces of the two men. 

“Looks like we might have that rain, after all,” Paul observed, but it didn‘t look as if he cared all that much whether it did or not.

Richard made a murmur of agreement and nodded. 

“Still, it’s been a lovely evening,” Paul observed, with a satisfied grin that looked genuine. “The chicken was nice.” 

Richard couldn't help but respond to that grin; as well as being particularly infectious, he couldn’t find fault with the evening, either. Although it wasn’t the first time that they’d met, it was their first official date. They’d first been introduced some months before by their mutual acquaintance, that Richard knew only as Flake and Paul sometimes referred to as Christian. Whilst Richard himself didn’t know Flake that well, he understood that Paul and Flake shared a flat somewhere in Berlin. Richard had first met Paul at a Feeling B gig, and whilst Richard had enjoyed the show, his attentions had been rather pre-occupied by the gangling blond guitarist with the wide smile and mysterious grey-blue eyes that winked and flashed incessantly with humour. He’d somehow convinced Flake to introduce him to Paul, an introduction made all the easier for Paul also having made a similar request of the long-suffering keyboard-player, to be introduced to Richard . 

They’d fallen into an easy friendship since then, and had grown infinitely closer; it seemed inevitable that Richard would eventually ask Paul out on a date. Paul had, much to Richard’s relief, agreed readily; Richard had been initially nervous, more nervous than he ordinarily was before similar first dates, but in that, he needn’t have worried. The date had been a success, and the meal they’d shared at Henne had been delicious. Richard still could taste the chicken and the creaminess of the potato salad that had accompanied it; the beer that they both had imbibed in the biergarten afterwards had been heady and dark, and as mysterious as Paul’s mischievous gaze.

“It has,” Richard agreed, with a nod that he meant and a grin that he meant even more. “We should do it again.” 

“We should, shouldn't we?” Paul asked, and Richard glanced at him and saw that the other man looked pleased with the prospect of another date.

Paul caught Richard staring at him, yet Richard himself wasn’t embarrassed; instead, both men grinned. Richard couldn’t help but think how attractive the other man was, almost elfin with his too young face and his skinny body that looked just the wrong side of frail, yet Richard was betting against everything that it actually wasn’t. Paul probably was stronger than he looked and Richard would have given anything right then to test that theory out in bed. 

“How about next week?” Richard asked, when the silence that stretched between them angled too close to becoming uncomfortable.

“Sure,” Paul agreed. “Friday any good?”

“Yeah,” Richard said, without thinking.

He wasn’t sure what plans he even had then, and didn’t care. He’d blow them off for another night shared with Paul, if that was the case; he considered Paul more important than whatever other plans he may well have had.

Paul grinned that easy grin again, all teeth and bright elfin twinkles, and Richard couldn’t help but think how damn beautiful the man was, unfairly so in his opinion. He sighed and shuffled companionably alongside the other man, hands shoved deep into his pockets, collar turned up to keep the worst of the cold out as Paul’s chatter wound on, keeping Richard amused whilst they walked. 

The promised rain finally came, in great fat droplets that splattered against the pavements and the heads of people alike. Richard glanced at Paul, and saw that the slighter man had turned his head towards the skies, letting the rain wash over his grinning face as though it was the most wonderful, most exciting and exhilarating feeling in the world and perhaps to him, it was. Richard felt uncomfortable in the rain, as the droplets stuck to his scalp and plastered his hair uncomfortably flat against his scalp in dark wet swathes. Still his discomfort was short-lived when he stared into the face of Paul, who had turned that infectious grin onto him again. 

Richard stopped walking and Paul stopped beside him; whilst he still was grinning, he was staring askance at Richard as though worried something was wrong. Richard sighed, felt the sudden urge to give in to the urges he’d been having for weeks on end now, to step in and kiss Paul, and finally feel that mouth soft upon his own. Paul’s head tilted, eyes quizzical yet still mirthfully bright and it looked as though he was going to ask a question. 

Richard didn’t give him the chance to do so, for he stepped in, gave into temptation and pressed Paul between his own body and the closest lamp-post, hands immediately snarling in the long strands of Paul’s hair. Paul’s eyes partially closed and his lips parted; Richard waited for the other man to offer protest but he didn’t. It almost seemed as though Paul knew what Richard wanted, had expected it even and wanted the kiss as much as Richard himself did. Richard sighed and leant in, yet still left his lips hovering a few millimetres away from Paul’s, and waited for protest, for a curse or worse, a rejection but nothing ever came. Instead it seemed as though Paul was holding his breath, waiting for Richard to move and to do something, anything other than just to stand there, hovering, waiting, deliberating.

Richard closed his eyes, swallowed and took the plunge; he felt the rain hammering down and soaking them both as he pressed kiss after kiss upon Paul’s waiting, eager, greedy mouth, but he didn’t care. Paul was warm in his arms and responding to each and every kiss with hungry kisses of his own, encouraging noises spilling from smiling lips as Richard pressed in closer to Paul‘s body.

Richard eased away to draw breath again, but he did not relinquish his hold upon Paul; Paul was too warm, too pliant and eager in his arms for him to regret all that had happened. Richard smiled down upon the other man, caught the bright smile that Paul gave him in return, before Paul leant up and pressed his lips against Richard’s once more. Richard responded, fingers shifting and snarling in Paul’s hair again, and he could taste the beer on Paul’s tongue and the taste of Paul beneath it all. 

Paul was the first to ease away that time, to rest his head against Richard’s now soaking wet shoulder, arms looped easily and comfortably around Richard’s waist as though they belonged there, which, Richard, supposed, that they did. Richard dotted kisses against the top of Paul’s head as the other man sighed gustily and contentedly against him, yet it was Paul who spoke first. 

“We’re getting wet,” he said.

“I’d noticed,” Richard replied, laughter turning his voice dark and warm for a moment. 

“We’d best go,” Paul said. 

Richard nodded, but it still was some time before they moved away from the lamp-post, and began to walk. Paul chatted amiably, seemingly having no end of anecdotes, silly jokes, and opinions on everything from the too bright lighting of the pubs and restaurants and the putrid yellow colour of a passing lady’s jacket, all of which made Richard laugh, chuckle and shake his head with Paul’s constant animation. 

It still was raining by the time that they reached the U-Bahn, but neither man cared; they were too drenched and too wrapped up in each other, to care whether the U-Bahn offered them a reprieve from the elements or not. They exchanged kisses whilst they waited for Paul’s train to arrive, and Paul once again made Richard promise to meet him on the same station the following Friday for their date. It was a promise that Richard was all too ready to make and eager to keep; Paul’s last, parting grin through the window of the train made Richard grin himself, despite the inexplicable sadness he felt at being parted from Paul so soon. 

He sighed and walked away from the station, dejection weighing heavily upon his shoulders. Only the thought of meeting Paul again kept him warm through chilly, soaked Berlin streets, like an ever-flickering hopeful glow ever-present within his breast.


End file.
